


Unwanted Pleasure

by demonkatgurl17



Series: Harry Potter Porny Fics [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Touch, Cock Slut Harry Potter, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Don't Like Don't Read, Forced Orgasm, Gang Rape, Gangbang, Hogwarts Fifth Year, I'd tell you more characters only they'd spoil my fun, M/M, Male Slash, Multi, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Imbalance, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Skull Fucking, Slut Harry, read the tags or I'll laugh at your tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25177645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonkatgurl17/pseuds/demonkatgurl17
Summary: Harry is being regularly assaulted. Not knowing who it is isn't his only problem. It's that he *likes* it. Harry/others.PWP. Hogwarts 5th year. One-shot, but can be a considered a prequel before "Red-Light Dungeon" and "Gangbang in the Gryffindor Common Room"
Relationships: Harry Potter/Multiple, Harry Potter/Others
Series: Harry Potter Porny Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647265
Comments: 20
Kudos: 360





	Unwanted Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot that I thought up, though it can oddly be a considered a prequel before my fics "Red-Light Dungeon" and "Gangbang in the Gryffindor Common Room" as further understanding of Harry's mindset. 
> 
> Though this is still abject trash so read at your discretion, don't like, don't read.

Harry blinked against the darkness around him, face half-buried into his pillow. It was the dead of night, but something had woken him.

All at once, Harry’s senses came to life, overwhelming him.

Hands were tight on his waist, bruising him and dragging him back, rhythmically, over and over, just as something large and thick was moved inside of Harry's ass, jolting Harry’s body forwards. The tender underside of his ass cheeks were being slapped in time with the rough movements. And barely heard over the squeaking of his bed springs— low groans, ragged panting.

Someone was _raping_ him.

Shocked to the core, Harry stayed limp, feigning sleep.

It was then he realized his cock was hard, leaking onto the bedspread, rubbing against it with every thrust. The fucking was rough and his entrance was rather sore — there was no telling if he'd been prepared at all before that cock began to plow him — but the large cock kept driving against something that short-circuited his brain, made him leak precum into the bedspread and desperately want _more_ of that cock.

Harry bit his lip, trying to stay quiet.

He _liked_ it.

The very thought was filthy, sordid. It was the sort of dirty-wrong idea, _enjoying_ his own torture, that made him want to curl up into a ball and disappear forever because if _this_ was what he liked, what sort of person did that make him? Someone who _wanted_ to be used and abused?

As if knowing what Harry wanted, his rapist pulled Harry’s hips up off the bed, getting Harry’s ass high in the air with his front still pressed to the bed. That cock pounded Harry violently, balls slapping against Harry in earnest.

Harry couldn't have stayed quiet if he tried. He rocked back into the fat cock reaming him open, whimpering. His cock swung freely beneath him, smacking against his belly, sending jolts of pleasure through his body.

"That's it, you little slut,” his rapist whispered, their voice too low and ragged for Harry to identify, even if Harry could string two thoughts together to properly concentrate. “Take what you're given…You deserve this…You're nothing but an empty hole…waiting to be filled. Ahhh!"

His rapist came, filling Harry's ass to the brim.

Cum dripped to the bedding.

A hand wrapped around Harry's cock. He didn’t last through more than one firm pump before he was shooting his load all over the bed, passing out moments later.

When he came to, he was sweaty, naked, and all alone.

*********************

Days went by.

Nothing happened, no incidents followed. There was no hint as to who had ‘visited’ Harry. If it weren't for the ache in his ass and low back, he would have thought it a weird dream.

Harry was walking down an empty corridor, lost in thought and therefore oblivious to his surroundings, when a spell hit him from behind and everything went black.

When Harry came to, he was blindfolded, gagged, and naked, bent at the waist over a wobbly desk. His legs were spread wide. Even without being able to see, Harry was aware there was more than one person in the room.

Even if there was only one cock fucking him.

The slap of skin on skin in the cold room echoed a little, made Harry blush horribly with embarrassment. Everyone could _hear_ this…

His rapist held tight to Harry's hips, yanking him back onto his cock.

"Tight whore...."

Harry tried to move, but his body wouldn’t cooperate, merely stayed limp on the desk, immobilized by some kind of spell. He wasn't going anywhere.

The rapist stilled for a long moment, wheezing as though in pain before they pulled out. Cum dripped from Harry’s ass and then another person stepped up behind Harry, jabbing his cock in deep, not taking a moment to allow Harry to adjust to this much larger girth.

It was an uncomfortable stretch, pain lancing through Harry's ass, but he was hard as a rock, precum dripping freely from the tip of his cock to the floor.

"Please...please stop," Harry tried to beg, but only a muffled groan made it through the gag stretching apart his jaws.

The thrusts came faster now.

Soft laughter split the air. “What was that?” one person whispered mockingly. “Speak louder, you dirty cunt.”

The gag was pulled away. Before Harry could speak, something pressed to his lips, forcing his mouth to open wide, and then Harry was being violently face-fucked, gagging around bad-smelling flesh. He couldn't breathe. He drooled around the cock filling his mouth, unable to swallow.

Harry was no less hard for the awful treatment.

Eventually, Harry came like that, spit-roasted on two cocks, used like a whore. Harry choked on the cock in his mouth when orgasm hit him, his body twitching feebly as his throat working madly for breath. At the same time, hands tangled in his hair to hold him in place. The cock in his mouth drove deep, spilling load after load of cum down Harry’s throat, waiting until Harry swallowed every last drop before withdrawing completely.

Harry hacked and gagged, wheezing, trying desperately to catch his breath.

Disappointment hit him.

He hadn't gotten to taste a drop of the man's cum.

The cock in his ass pulled out abruptly and then Harry's ass was a canvas for the streaks of cum his rapist soiled him with.

Large hands cupped Harry's ass, rubbing cum into his skin. Harry yelped as a heavy hand struck his abused pucker with a _slap!_ He hated the thrill it sent through his body.

Not even _that_ had been enough to make Harry’s body move willingly.

He was trapped, well and truly trapped, held at the mercy of his assailants. A dirty shiver ran down Harry’s spine and his cock twitched where it hung between his legs, beginning to harden once more.

Footsteps shuffled behind Harry. A fat cock slapped at his used hole. It teased Harry for a while, the tip dipping into his ass little by little, then pulling out to slap at his hole again. His rapist did this over and over until Harry finally cracked and started to beg.

"Fuck me," Harry whispered. He couldn’t stand this anymore — the empty feeling in his ass, the tightness in his lower belly, balls heavy with need again even though he’d just come.

More laughter. 

Again the tip struck his hole, nudging at him.

" _Please_ fuck me," Harry begged, louder, his voice rising, cracking at the end, uncaring of their pointed taunts at his expense, calling him all manner of filthy names. He needed to be used and he _needed_ to _come_ again.

This time, he got what he asked for.

"Cock whore," a voice behind him sneered and then Harry's insides were getting battered by the sheer violence in his rapist’s thrusts. Harry’s limp body was jarred forward, hip bones bashing into the edge of the desk, which wobbled dangerously as Harry was made to take every punishing thrust. Harry's prostate was over-stimulated, the black nothing of Harry’s obscured vision interrupted by white flashes of pleasure. He begged and drooled, aware that more than one person was watching him come apart.

He didn't care.

Everything dissolved into a deeper black for Harry as he passed out, orgasm finally wrung from his abused body that sent him spiraling down… down...

He woke on the floor, naked and alone in an unused classroom. Cum puddled beneath him, cold and uncomfortable.

He’d been thoroughly violated. And he’d thoroughly enjoyed it.

Harry curled up and began to cry.

*************** 

It was dark, clearly still late at night, when Harry was pulled out of a deep sleep to the feeling of a cock sliding into his ass.

The pain was more intense than it had ever been, as if no preparation had been done at all — though the cock driving in felt slick enough.

_Not again!_ he thought, anticipation coiling in his belly alongside his dread.

His body was immobilized again, but this time it was with bindings, wrapped around his wrists and ankles to hold him spread out like a starfish on his bed, flat out on his front. Despite his bindings, Harry was knocked forward, almost suffocated by the cock that slid into his mouth, fucking him lazily, hardly needing to move as the rapist behind Harry did nearly all the work.

The sound of skin against skin and ragged panting sounded throughout the room. From a bed in the dormitory, snores came.

He was being raped in his dorm where anyone could _see_ , where anyone could _hear_ —

Harry fisted the bedsheets as he was vigorously fucked between his two assailants, his own hard cock throbbing against the bedclothes.

"Fucking tight...."

Harry came quickly this time, though the two were gone when he regained the strength to lift himself from his bed, cum on his lips.

*************

There's a cock in his mouth.

Again.

Harry choked as it surged deep into his throat, holding still for one second...two...three...

At nearly fifteen seconds, the cock pulls free of Harry's mouth and Harry gasps desperately for air. None of this disturbs the obscene _slap slap slap_ of flesh against flesh as he's violently fucked from behind. It doesn't even soften Harry's own cock, thick with arousal, slapping his belly in time with the other man raping him.

Smears of precum dot his skin, his own and remnants of the others who have already had him for hours now, blindfolded, unable to see but fully able to _hear_ , and _taste_ , and _smell_.

He’s not even restrained this time. Well. Not _anymore_. After the first few rounds, the bindings had vanished and Harry moved as unseen hands bid him—on his back, holding his own legs wide and apart…onto his hands and knees, lips parted and waiting…

That cock, slick with Harry's spit and tears, presses forward again, sliding deep into Harry's throat and holding still for one second....two...

Harry sucks at it eagerly, laps at the thick length in artless swipes of tongue, whether desperate for air or for a taste of cum again, he doesn't know.

He doesn’t care.

************

Harry was going mad. Almost daily, Harry would find himself knocked out in broad daylight, waking bound and gagged and blindfolded, repeatedly assaulted. It wouldn't matter how vigilant he was, either, as though his rapists knew where he'd be or what he'd do, always a step ahead of him.

What really drove Harry crazy was how he was beginning to _crave_ it, anonymous hands on him, using his body for their pleasure. The filthy feeling of being covered in cum sent a thrill through him. The gag prevented Harry from getting too loud, but there was no mistaking his moans for what they were: cries of pleasure — and of frustration whenever they bound his cock and balls to keep him from coming.

The orgasm deprivation felt crueler than the knowledge that he was actively being raped.

Nothing gave Harry a hint to his rapists’ identities. They weren't quiet, but their grunts, groans, and whispered insults were too low, too indistinct. He couldn’t place them, so he assumed the worst of _everyone_. He watched his friends, his enemies, even random students who passed him in the hall who gave him more than a moment’s glance (a lot of people, really).

The ones he suspected the most were his dorm mates. Many of Harry’s rapes occurred within the so-called _safety_ of Gryffindor Tower, amid snores and other benign sleep noises.

Were some of them involved?

We're they _all?_

Harry furtively eyed Seamus when he changed out of his bedclothes, wondering if that chubby cock had ever plowed Harry into his own sheets, if Deans ridiculously large length had been in Harry’s throat not hours ago…

Could Gryffindor boys outside of Harry’s year be terrorizing him?

…or was it _outsiders_ entirely, boys from another house somehow able to steal into Gryffindor Tower? That seemed unlikely, though certainly more palatable than the thought of being raped by his own housemates.

Harry's first thought was the Slytherins, but how would they know the password to get past the fat lady?

Perhaps a teacher helped them?

Harry started watching Snape. Of all the Hogwarts staff, he was the only one motivated enough to retaliate against Harry via....unconventional means. Had Snape let his snakes into Gryffindor Tower to have a go at Harry?

Had...had Snape _himself_ been involved, showing how a _real_ man fucked? Harry could well imagine those long, careful fingers burrowing their way into his ass, preparing the way for something much larger, his wiry strength holding Harry in place while Snape took out his frustrations on Harry in a new, exciting way than through points and barbed comments...

These thoughts had made Snape’s classes a special form of torture, for now Harry would sit through them half-hard, trying hard not to imagine going down on the slimy git under his desk, choking on his length.

Harry was so sure of Snape's involvement until an owl delivered him a note with the details of his latest detention with Umbridge.

Harry arrived promptly at 8pm in the toad’s office. The door shut behind him and he was surrounded by her gaudy decorations, mostly with moving cat pictures. A cup of tea sat on the edge of her desk nearest Harry. As the toad herself was sipping at her own cup, Harry knew it was meant for him.

He ignored it.

She watched him for several long moments with an ugly smirk on her lips. “How have you been sleeping, Mr. Potter? You look dreadful."

Harry stiffened, his thoughts flying to the rapes that took up a good portion of his nights, of the random ambushes that left him reeling and exhausted after taking cock after cock after cock—

She _couldn't_ know....

"Fine," Harry bit out, a light sweat breaking out over his skin. It was just a confidence, that’s all.

"Hmm..." She sipped at her tea. "You have been quite the issue for me, I must admit. I've taken points and privileges from you, sat you down in detention after detention, trying to make you understand your place in the world. And none of that seemed to have worked in the slightest. But...."

She trailed off for moment, her smile blatantly cruel now.

"My Inquisitorial Squad came up with an idea, which seems to be working just fine. It turns out....my strategies simply weren't _personal_ enough."

Umbridge slid open a drawer on her desk from which she pulled out a large attack of photos. Wizard photos. The kind that _moved_. Umbridge set them down beside Harry's tea cup, waving her hand, indicating that he look at them.

His hands shook as he reached for the stack, dread filling him.

The top most photo made Harry's stomach roll with nausea at the sight of — _himself_. 

It was _him_ in the photo. He was naked, laying in a bed — in _his_ bed. And he wasn't alone. The faces of his rapists were carefully kept out of the picture, but Harry knew what this photo was. He watched the image of himself deepthroat one of his faceless rapists as another used his ass. Harry in the photo had his hands clenched in the covers, making no apparent struggle against the depravity in the picture.

It looked like he was _enjoying_ himself.

Never mind that Harry almost always ended up enjoying himself, one way or another.

He's been set up.

Harry slowly went through the whole stack.

Some were one-on-one encounters, but nearly all of them showed Harry in a variety of positions with multiple men, his holes filled with cock, his body buffered about despite the spells that would hold him in place, spells that were invisible in these photos.

Harry dropped photo after photo to the floor, horrified at the realization that Umbridge had orchestrated his rapes, had allowed faceless students (there was no mistaking those bodies for full grown men) to have him, to force pleasure from his body in the name of some sick game she was playing on behalf of the ministry. All of this incriminating evidence was to force Harry to—

"What do you want?" Harry whispered. Despair clawed at insides. This evil _thing_ had done this to him, had turned Harry into this sick, twisted, _needy_ whore. He wanted to set the photos aflame, but he knew better than to think these were the originals. She wasn't stupid enough to make that mistake.

He was at her mercy.

Harry already knew she had none to give.

"What we at the Ministry have always wanted— for Harry Potter to keep his head down and his little lies to himself. Otherwise...these rather _racy_ photos might find their way to less careful hands,” she gave a high, simpering giggle that was at odds with her toady appearance. “The press, let's say. Or some seedy trash magazines first, but the Prophet would soon catch wind of it."

"I'll deny all of it!"

"You'll deny that you, clearly seen in these photos, are not just another attention-seeking slut? And what a slut you are, Mr. Potter… I was present for all of these photos. I can personally attest to just how _little_ you struggled against your... _lovers."_ She giggled again _,_ high pitched and ugly.

Harry clenched his fists in his lap. Fury licked at his sense of self-control, wanting desperately to show her an _ounce_ of the torment he’d felt. "How many?" He needed to know. Not that it mattered. Even one person walking around Hogwarts knowing Harry Potter enjoyed being raped was one too many.

"I never took a role count, in afraid, but it was my understanding that a good portion of Slytherin house has taken part in, shall we say, putting you through your paces? Mr. Malfoy was the most dedicated by far. He personally saw to it that you come on his cock every time he fucked you."

Malfoy had had him.

Harry nearly vomited. The ferret always made smug faces at him, but now Harry knew that it was because—

His fury surged through him, broke free of the thin bounds of his control. Without thought, Harry launched himself at Umbridge.

Or tried to, because he hadn't made it over the edge of her desk before a spell hit him in the back and he dropped like a stone, his torso draped across Umbridge's desk. Tea seeped into his clothes from the upturned cup he nearly crushed.

"Thank you, boys," Umbridge said towards the wall behind Harry, where several members of the Inquisitorial Squad became un-Disillusioned and stepped forward, one being Malfoy. "Perhaps he needs yet another reminder of obedience?"

Harry struggled to get to move, but his limbs felt heavy and useless. He couldn't stop his assailants from stripping off his clothes, from running their hands over his naked flesh.

"...n-no...."

Already he was hardening, his body conditioned to the treatment of their unwanted touches, knowing they were going to make him come over and over again whether or not he wanted to. His body wanted it even as Harry's mind was repulsed by it.

Someone leaned over Harry.

"Now now, Potter, we mustn’t attack Professor Umbridge, who has so _kindly_ allowed for your pleasure," Malfoy mock-whispered in his ear. "One might think you were ungrateful...." Malfoy licked his way up Harry's neck and jaw before forcing his tongue past Harry's lips, kissing him deeply, claiming him.

A hard cock pressed to Harry's exposed hole then was thrusting its way inside.

Harry's scream was muffled by Malfoy's kiss, as were his groans as the pain slowly tapered off and pleasure overtook him.

Malfoy had learned Harry's body well. Every pinch to Harry's skin, every hip tilt that drove Malfoy’s cock in _just_ the right way was designed to make Harry mad with desire. When Malfoy finally released him from his kiss, there was no mistaking the sounds Harry made, groaning with every thrust.

" _Whore_ ," Malfoy jeered down at him, fucking him harder. He laughed under his own labored breathing.

Harry felt his body jolted by Malfoy's rough fucking, but he couldn't control his limbs, could only lay there and take it. Little by little, Harry was driven out of his mind, his cock leaking against the desk he was splayed over. It was _sinful_ how good it felt…

Harry's vision was skewed from the angle and his half-torqued glasses, but he could still see Umbridge in her chair, watching as Malfoy raped him. The woman's breathing had quickened. Clearly she enjoyed seeing Harry brought low, defeated. Her hand slid under her desk and, when her breathing changed, Harry was nearly sick to realize that she was _touching herself_.

"Make him come, Draco."

Malfoy wasted no time in doing just that.

His hands gripped Harry's hips, bruising them even further, and Malfoy pistoned into him, battering Harry's prostate until Harry came with a sob, his cum splattering against Umbridge's desk and floor.

It was some time before Malfoy came as well. He didn't withdraw right away either, content to soften inside Harry, reveling in the mess he'd made of Harry's ass, feeling it leak out and drip down his ass and thighs.

Harry shivered badly, unable to comprehend just how _used_ he was. Malfoy kissed him again, soft and slow this time, though just as deep. Dazed as Harry was, he actually kissed Malfoy back, taking strength in the comforting gesture, even if it wasn't meant to comfort Harry at all.

"You’re so _good_ once you've had a cock inside you," Malfoy whispered when he finally broke the kiss. He withdrew entirely.

Harry whimpered as Malfoy slid free of his body faster than he'd liked.

"I suppose after a few more cocks, you'll be downright docile."

Harry's body was levitated, flipped, and lowered back to the desk on his back. His cock was half-hard again and was the only part of him that seemed to be free enough to move.

Goyle stepped up and repositioned Harry's legs to press into his chest before entering Harry's loosened hole. There was no affected tenderness in his movements, just machine-like intent as Goyle fucked Harry's hole.

Harry hardened fully under the onslaught, whimpering faintly. He wasn't sure how he managed to come again, but he did, his belly painted with his own pleasure.

Umbridge hummed under her breath, watching with bated breath as Goyle came and withdrew, letting Crabbe take his place with an almost identical pace.

Harry watched Umbridge, though it was difficult to manage with his head tilted away and glasses askew. He had hoped that watching her masturbate to his rape would prevent Harry from getting hard again, would kill any arousal his body could yet muster.

He was wrong.

Crabbe fucked him hard again, his thick, almost monstrous cock stimulating Harry until precum leaked onto his belly. Crabbe came before Harry could, pulling out to let another Inquisitorial Squad member step up to take Crabbe's place.

Warrington was violent in a way the others hadn't been. He twisted at Harry's nipples, stroked Harry's cock with an unforgiving grip. "Yeah, you love my cock, don't you Potter?" Warrington grinned, stroking at Harry's barely flagging cock. "Come on, one more you mudblood slut. Come on your master's cock!"

Harry's orgasm struck practically on command. Harry gasped and twitched, cum splattering them both. Sensitivity made Harry whine when Warrington still didn't let up, stoking Harry until Warrington froze and shot his load.

All four boys stood looking at him. Harry watched them back, exhausted and beaten down further than he'd ever been. His fury was gone. All that was left was bone-deep resignation. His school rivals had seen him at his lowest. There was no coming back from this.

"Stroke yourself, Mr. Potter, until you climax," Umbridge commanded softly, "or I'll let them fuck you until well after nightfall with no reprieve."

Some sick part of Harry was ready for just that, wanted his holes filled by these ugly goons until he couldn't remember how to think. But the veil had been drawn back. Now Harry _knew_ who had made feel so good and he couldn’t quite stomach going through that again.

He wrapped a hand around his cock, mildly surprised he could move again.

Well, one arm at least.

Resigned, Harry jacked his cock, hardening it. The skin was sore, but it didn't make Harry stop. He took turns staring at them. His gaze settled at last on Malfoy. He, at least, was pretty to look at.

Malfoy must have figured out what he was doing because he draped himself over Harry again, kissing him like he _owned_ Harry, fingers buried in Harry's hair and ass.

A murmured spell, then Harry whined at the feel of three, then four slick fingers thrusting inside him, a fifth — Malfoy's thumb — pushing in until his hand was buried to the wrist. Harry's gasp was lost in Malfoy's kiss, but his cock didn't flag, but with his hand still flying over it. White filled his vision as Harry came, Malfoy still fisting him, nearly passing out as pleasure and pain mixed and sent him reeling.

"Did you get enough photos, professor?"

"I expect so, Warrington. The ones from today I'll send along with you, as well as a copy for professor Snape. He seems to enjoy them."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [a6301](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a6301/pseuds/a6301) Log in to view. 




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